


Dangerous Love

by orphan_account



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Hartmon, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Possessive!Hartley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:25:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9508937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A trip to a club takes a turn for Cisco when he sees a familiar face. He also learns a thing or two about who he belongs to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was actually writing this before my other Hartmon fic, but I decided to post the other one first because I actually finished that one first. This one is probably not as good, but it works.

                Cisco Ramon, aka Vibe, is not standing in that doorway for no reason. His head pounds with the beat of the music, and he’s already picking up on the stench of alcohol in the atmosphere. But none of it matters to him. He just needs something to distract him.

            Cisco starts to head towards a table in the back, but a hand on his arm stops him. He turns to look at the mystery man, but comes to the conclusion that this man is a stranger and not anyone he knows.

            “Can I help you?” Cisco questions, hoping the man has a good fucking reason for interrupting his thoughts. His response is what Cisco assumes is supposed to be a laugh.

            “Absolutely.” The man’s gruff voice startles Cisco out of his stupor. He’s not in the mood for this, so he tries to yank his arm away.

            “I’m not looking for any trouble-“

            “Who said anything about trouble-“

            “Please just let go-“

            “Why should I?”

            Before Cisco can respond, he’s cut off by a very familiar voice saying, “Because he’s mine. Now let go, or the next thing you’ll feel will be your hand getting dismembered from your arm.”

            The brute that has a grip on his arm turns to the source of the threat.

            “Rathaway.” The man growls, narrowing his eyes. It’s a dangerous look, and Cisco can’t say he’s seen anything scarier. Did he just say- “You’ve never mentioned having a pet.”

            Cisco scowls at being called a pet. He isn’t anyone’s pet. Especially not-

            Wait. Rathaway? That can’t be right. _Hartley_ Rathaway will never try to save Cisco from a brute like this. Or. . .at least Cisco thinks he won’t.

            Cisco’s thoughts are interrupted by the conversation continuing between ‘Rathaway’ and The Brute.

            “And now you see why. To keep unwanted hands _off_ of him.” Cisco feels someone wrap their arms around his waist from behind and he tenses at first, but he doesn’t fight it. He stares at The Brute, almost challenging in a way, while he still holds his arm. “So I’ll say it again. _Let go_. Or lose your hand.”

            With a sneer, the man reluctantly let’s go of Cisco’s arm, taking a few steps back. His grin never falters, however, causing a shiver to run down Cisco’s spine. He isn’t sure what the other man is thinking, but he knows it’s nothing good.

            “Better watch that one. He’s too pretty for his own good.” And with that the man disappears into the crowd, leaving Cisco alone with the man behind him. Hartley Rathaway.

            “Y-you can let go of me now. . .” He stammers out, noticing the warmth of the other man’s hands around his waist. Hartley seems to hesitate, but retracts his arms eventually. Cisco immediately whips around to make sure it’s Hartley.

            And it is. It is Hartley fucking Rathaway. What the hell is he doing here? Cisco can’t help but wonder as he stares at the man in front of him with a newfound appreciation.

            “I’m sorry about Mike.” Hartley says with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. He fails and just makes himself sound even more worried. “He always takes it upon himself to. . .greet the newcomers.”

            “Greet. If that’s a form of greeting, then I’m a wizard, Hartley.” He chuckles dryly, looking back to where Mike had disappeared a few moments ago. His hand goes to his arm and rubs slightly. “I’m going to have a bruise. Great.”

            “ _Cisquito,_ you can’t really be worried about a small bruise.” Hartley laughs and shakes his head, smiling slightly at Cisco. “Not after everything you’ve been through. I’ll be surprised if you can walk tomorrow, with you coming here.”

            Cisco’s head is spinning. It could be a mix of the clubbing atmosphere around him, or maybe the different attitude coming from Hartley. Cisco isn’t sure, but he thinks he sees a look in Hartley’s eyes. Something. . .possessive.

            “I… um…” He clears his throat and shakes his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, tilting his head slightly at Hartley, who just laughs again.

            “This is a gay club, _Cisquito._ I doubt you’d be here just for a drink.” Cisco blinks and realizes how close Hartley’s gotten. It’s unnerving, the look that Hartley is giving him. A very suggestive look.

            “I-I guess you’re right…. B-but why does it matter?” Cisco swallows and looks away from Hartley. Is he drunk? It would make sense. . .

            “It matters because I didn’t know you were into men.” Hartley licks his lips and eyes Cisco up and down, as if he’s seeing him for the first time. “I thought you were straight.”

            “I’m bi.” Cisco says bluntly. He’s starting to think Hartley really is drunk. “How long have you been here?” He changes the subject to try to find out an answer to his internal question.

            “A few hours, I think.” Hartley shrugs and grabs Cisco’s arm, pulling him towards a table. A few glasses are sitting on the table. Cisco smells the alcohol radiating from Hartley now.

            “How many drinks have you had?” Cisco continues his onslaught of questions as they sit down, Hartley sitting a little too close than he normally would.

            “I don’t count. I just drink.” Hartley looks bored now, and Cisco takes it upon himself to note that bored, drunk Hartley looks the same as sober Hartley.

            “Duly noted.” Cisco nods and looks down at the table. “Why do you come here?”

            “Why are you attacking me with questions, Ramon?” Hartley eyes Cisco curiously, setting the Hispanic’s nerves on edge again.

            “I’m not _attacking_ you with questions. I just want to gather information.” Cisco presses himself against the wall behind him to try to put some distance between him and Hartley, but to no avail. Hartley follows, pressing him against the wall.

            “Information? You’re _analyzing_ me?” Hartley hisses, pressing a hand into the wall right next to Cisco’s head. “And here I thought we were getting along. I guess some things never change.”

            “ _Hartley_ ,” Cisco snaps, glaring into the blue gaze staring back. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

            “I know perfectly well what I’m saying, _Cisquito._ ” Hartley growls out, licking his lips. “I’m not an idiot. I know how I feel. I’ve known for a while-“

            “Don’t finish that sentence, Hart.” Cisco presses himself as close as he can to the wall. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

            “-and it’s not hate.” His words are softly spoken, startling Cisco just the slightest. His eyes narrow, not believing a word Hartley’s saying. Hartley seems to read his mind. “ _Cisquito,_ I may be drunk but that doesn’t mean I’m lying. Please. Just hear me out.”

            Cisco stares for a long moment. Hartley just said please. _Please_ for Cisco to listen to him. It’s a startling realization that maybe Hartley does have something say.

            Cisco realizes he should say something, and so he does, pushing himself forward, away from the wall.

            “Not here.” Finally escapes from his lips, earning a small nod from Hartley. Cisco starts to push Hartley away, but Hartley grabs his hands.

            “Hey. Mike is eyeing us.” He whispers, glancing over to where the brute is sitting, staring their direction. “Or, more precisely, you.”

            “Okay. What does that have to do with anyth –“Cisco grunts as soft lips tasting of alcohol crash onto his in a messy, much uncoordinated, kiss. It’s surprising, but not overly horrendous like he expected. Hartley moves closer to him, moving his hands up Cisco’s arms and to his neck, pulling him closer.

            Cisco leans forward into the kiss, moving his hands to Hartley’s waist and letting his eyes slip close. He feels Hartley’s tongue prod at the crease between his lips, and Cisco doesn’t think twice before parting them and moaning around Hartley’s tongue.

            All too soon the kiss ends and Cisco finds himself staring straight into those hypnotic blue orbs. Everything’s a little fuzzy now, but he sure as hell can see that smirk from a mile away.

            “Oh my god. I swear-“

            “Don’t worry, _Cisquito._ I enjoyed it as much as you did. And from the sound of that moan, I’m going to say you enjoyed it a lot.” Hartley’s smirk only grows bigger at the distressed sound Cisco makes afterwards.

            “Shut up.” Cisco leans forward again and claims Hartley’s lips in another, more demanding kiss. He doesn’t care if he’s proving Hartley right. Cisco did enjoy it. Very much. And he just wants it to keep happening, over and over again.

            Hartley responds to the kiss just as demanding, slipping his fingers into Cisco’s hair. Cisco presses closer to Hartley, practically in his lap now, and slips his hands up underneath his shirt.

            “Wait-“Hartley pulls away, panting and staring at Cisco with lust filled eyes. “I-I thought we were going to talk first-“

            “Right.” Cisco nods, but doesn’t make any move to pull away from Hartley, who’s hand have now moved to Cisco’s shoulders. “Damn it, Hart. Were you really that jealous when you saw Mike’s hand on me?” He smirks at the expression of shocked fear that crosses Hartley’s face.

            “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cisco.” The piper defends, a slight blush crawling its way up his neck and cheeks. Cisco chuckles.

            “C’mon, Hart. You know it’s true. I saw the look you gave him. And I know that threat was real.” He couldn’t help the grin that enveloped his features. This was just too much fun. “I’m not an idiot.”

            “That’s a laugh.” Hartley smirks. “You’re an idiot for coming here. You’re an idiot for not realizing sooner what we both feel.”

            “How was I supposed to kno-!” And again, Hartley shuts him up with a kiss, this one more sweet and caring than the last two. Cisco presses even closer to Hartley, sitting on his lap now, and moans as Hartley lightly tugs on his hair.

            It’s the best he’s felt in a long time, proving that Hartley is, as always, right about this. But Cisco can’t say that, especially not now while Hartley’s tongue is down his throat, but he can hum in slight agreement to what he said mere moments before.

            Cisco moves his hands to Hartley’s chest, and then around his neck to draw him closer. Needing as much contact as possible, he basically plasters himself to Hartley. He feels Hartley’s hands move down to his waist, keeping him there on his lap. Cisco doesn’t mind.

            “ _Cisquito._ ” Hartley breathes out when they break away for air. “My _Cisquito._ ” He presses their foreheads together, still holding onto Cisco’s waist.

            “My Hart. . .” Cisco breathes out with a small smile. He pulls his forehead away from Hartley’s and looks over to where Mark had been sitting. But he’s not there anymore. “I think we scared him off.”

            The look on Hartley’s face says otherwise, and Cisco can feel the grip on his waist tighten protectively.

            “No. . .we didn’t. He never runs. . .” Hartley sighs and looks at Cisco with a glare. “God dammit, Cisco. Why must you be so attractive? Mark’s not going to stop until he gets his hands on you.”

            Cisco’s heart skips a beat.

            “His. . .his hands on me? You mean- oh my god. I’m not that attractive, Hart! There’s plenty of other, way hotter, guys than me!” His eyes are wide, from fear and flattery of Hartley’s words.

            “ _Cisquito,_ don’t talk like that. No one is better than you.” Hartley stares at him with a slight frown, rubbing his waist soothingly. “I have met plenty of men and none of them. . .none of them look at me the way you do. Like a _person_ instead of a pet. Cisco, you are the most amazing person I know. Please don’t talk yourself down like that.”

            “Hartley-“

            “Shush.” Hartley places a small kiss on Cisco’s lips, then pulls away again. “We need to leave. Now.”

            Cisco nods and scrambles off of Hartley’s lap and out of the booth, waiting for Hartley to follow. Of course, before Hartley follows he leaves a tip. Cisco chuckles slightly and then reaches for Hartley’s hand as he steps away from the table.

            “This way.” Hartley pulls the engineer along towards the back door, but takes a right before they reach the exit. Cisco furrows his brows, confused.

            “Where are we going?” Cisco questions, following closely behind Hartley. The piper looks back at him with a smile.

            “My room.”

            Cisco’s jaw drops as they enter the room. It’s not like a bedroom. It’s more of a. . . His eyes widen and he looks at Hartley with a surprised look.

            “Is this a. . . a brothel. . .?” He asks, looking around the room once again. There’s a very neat bed placed dead center in his line of vision. Rose petals are strewn across the floor like leaves in the fall. Cisco can faintly smell vanilla and almond, which turns out to be the scented candles lining the shelves of the room. The dim lighting only gives him enough view of what he’s seen, but he knows there’s more. He can hear a faint sound. . .like the ocean. He supposes that might be a perk of the bed.

            When Cisco looks back to Hartley, he can see the faint, pink-tinged blush upon his cheeks. It makes Cisco’s blood run hot at seeing an embarrassed Hartley.

            “Yes.” Hartley answers after a few moments. “It is. . .it’s not used anymore. . .Charlie, the owner of the club, said I could use it whenever I wanted for whatever I wanted.” He looks at Cisco with a small smile. “Including hiding out from a brute like Mike.”

            Cisco chuckles and nods, watching as Hartley walks back to the door and locks it. One, two, three times Cisco hears a click. He feels appalled at how someone had built this place for people to sell their bodies.

            “So,” Cisco starts, moving closer to Hartley. “I’d sound like an idiot if I asked what we’re going to do to pass the time.”

            Hartley chuckles and turns his whole body to face Cisco. His features are lit up with adoration and lust, pleasing Cisco to the bone.

            “Yes, you would. Considering this room has one purpose. . .and I plan to put it fully to good use.” By this time, Hartley’s already wrapped his arms around Cisco’s waist, and Cisco shivers at the touch.

            Cupping Hartley’s face, Cisco leans in and places their lips together in a passionate kiss, pressing Hartley against the door. Hartley pulls Cisco flush against him, tilting his head and slipping his tongue into his mouth.

            Throughout their trip to the bed, clothes get thrown to the ground and forgotten. Cisco’s back lands on the mattress and he wraps his legs around Hartley’s waist, never breaking the kiss.

            It’s all sorts of pleasure for both men, the little noises they earn from each other. Cisco’s hair gets tangled in Hartley’s fingers, getting slightly pulled and earning small moans out of Cisco’s mouth.

            Cisco praises Hartley on how good he’s doing, causing shudders to run throughout the male’s body. Cisco doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful than the sweaty body of Hartley Rathaway, and if he has he can’t recall what it was.

            When they’re both finished and sweaty, Cisco wraps his arms around Hartley, almost as if he’s afraid to let go. But Hartley doesn’t seem to mind; he just cuddles in closer.

            “ _Cisquito_ ,” Hartley begins, still a little breathless. Cisco closes his eyes and bites his lip. “Where does. . .where does this leave us?”

            “Hartley,” Cisco turns so that he’s lying on his side and he can see the other male’s face. “I don’t want to put a label on us. We’re us.” His words cause a smile to form on both of their faces, and it earns a kiss from Hartley.

            “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was probably really bad. I didn't even want to go through and edit it bc then I'd just erase the whole thing and write it all over again. Anyways. Hope you liked it. Kudos are appreciated although not demanded. And comments are cool


End file.
